Broken
by Lizzy127
Summary: Sara has gone missing. Can Grissom and the team find her before it's too late? And, if they do find her, will she be able to recover from the horrible, near death experience? GSR. Post “Living Dolls.”
1. Prologue

A/N: Hey everyone! So, this is the first fanfic I have written in 2 years, as well as my first CSI fic. Basically, the way this season of the show ended did not fly with me (I am a huge GSR fan, and Sara is my favorite character on the show!) and it's been bugging me ever since. So, I decided to write a favorable ending to the whole kidnapping of Sara : ) The first few chapters will be about finding Sara, and then the last few chapters will be about her recovery. I hope that it's okay, and that everyone enjoys it!

Summary: Sara has gone missing. Can Grissom and the team find her before it is too late? And, if they do find her, will she be able to recover from the horrible, near death experience? GSR. Post "Living Dolls."

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own anything CSI... if I did, Jorja Fox would definitely be returning next season, and Grissom and Sara would have shared an on-screen kiss by now ; )

_Italic font represents the thoughts of a character._

Prologue

A fierce wind whipped around the car, shrieking into the open desert. Cold rain pounded on the metal roof and sides of the vehicle, as the temperature continued to drop in the stormy night. A small black form, barley visible beneath the wreckage of metal and glass, slowly moved, releasing a barely audible whimper. She was alone. How it had happened, she wasn't sure. All she could remember was putting her field kit in the trunk of her car. She had closed the door and was about to get into the car herself when she had heard it.

"_Sara_..." a chilling whisper had called her name. Then, before she realized anything, there was a light pop and she began to feel a strange warmth flowing through her vains. And that was it. She was now here, face down in the rough gravel of the desert, being crushed on all sides by a car. She could hardly move. Her left foot had fallen asleep... or perhaps it was broken? She couldn't tell. The pouring rain was making its way under the car, and she was already soaked through and through. How could this have happened? Perhaps the more important question, the one she should really be asking herself is: _why_. _Why did someone want to kill her? _ Since she had awoken from her induced slumber, she had been racing through every recent case, wondering if she had, in someway, offended someone in an exceptional manner. Yet, there was no silver bullet that came to mind.

Sara closed her eyes, and tried to focus on something other then the pain and coldness that were consuming her. _I'm sure the lab is working on may case... and I completely trust all of them. This is all going to work out. After all, we found Nick! I know they'll find me too. I'm sure Grissom..._ "Grissom." She whispered his name into the cold air, her lips trembling at the mere breath of it. Tears began to prick at the backs of her eyelids, but she refused to yield to them. _Poor Grissom_, she thought, _he must be a wreck right now_. _ I know I would be if something like this had happened to him. I wish more than anything he could be here with me now!_ Sara let out a frustrated cry as the tears began to flow down her cheeks, mixing with the frigid rain that continued to fall.

* * *

He sat at his desk, unmoving except for the shallow breaths he took every few seconds. It had never been this bad before: with Nick, he had been upset but still able to think, stall able to function. But this time... it was a whole different story. It was Sara, his Sara, and he was having a hard enough time grappling with the fact that she was missing, let alone with the fact that he was completely powerless to save her. So there he sat, staring at the newest miniature model, the tiny hand of the Sara doll slowly moving up and down, mocking him and his inability to help. There she was, right in front of him. Yet, in reality she was tens of miles away... perhaps even hundreds of miles away. Still...the answer was there. Grissom knew it was, just like it had been there in every other crime scene. He just had to open his mind... think outside the box.

"Hey, Gil," a somber Catherine slowly entered the dark office, "How's it going?"

His only response to her was to continue to stare at the model.

"Okay... well, I just wanted to update you--"

"Have you found anything?" Grissom interrupted her sentence, never breaking his gaze from the miniature pile of wreckage before him.

"Unfortunately, we haven't come across anything yet. Brass is with Natalie now, but she's not responding. The others are searching Sara's car and reviewing security footage from the garage. I just... Gil, I'm not sure how this is going to turn out."

"I know," Grissom responded.

"I'm so sorry. We're doing the best we can, it's just..."

"I know," Grissom said again, this time looking up at his longtime friend. He gave her a weak smile, which surprisingly seemed to encourage her a bit.

"Okay, well I'm gonna head back to the garage... If you need anything, I'm just a phone call away," slowly turning, Catherine began to leave the small room, unsure of whether or not there was more she should be doing to help her friend. She was barely out the door when Grissom's voice caught her attention.

"Catherine," he said urgently. She quickly turned around to find him already striding across the room to meet her, miniature in hand, "Walk with me."

They set off down the hall in the direction of trace as Grissom began to share his ideas, "In every previous model, every detail has been set up to precisely match the crime scene. If that holds true for this model, we might be able to match the sediments from the rocks in the miniature to a general area in Nevada. Hopefully Natalie used rocks from the actual location as ground cover for the miniature."

"Well," said Catherine, her internal flame of hope growing slightly brighter at his plan, "there's an actual possibility that may work. We'll need an expert... I'll call UNLV, and see if they can send someone over from Geoscience."

"Great. Let me know what's going on as soon as you know... I'll be with Hodges in trace."

And with that, Grissom continued down the hall at a hurried pace, leaving Catherine where she stood. She paused for a moment, smiling to herself, then whipped out her cell to call the University.

A/N: So, for those of you who may have read before, I decided to make the first 2 chapters into one b/c they were so short. So, this whole section is the prologue, and Chapter 1 is actually the new chapter : )


	2. Perseverance

A/N: So, for those of you who may have read before, I decided to make the first two chapters into one chapter b/c they were so short. So, the whole first section is the prologue, and Chapter 1 (this chapter) is actually the new chapter : ) Also, for all the rock stuff in this chapter: I'm not a geologist AT ALL. If you notice something that might be incorrect, feel free to correct me because the only experience I have had with this stuff was 9th grade Earth Science and a tiny geology class I took 3 semesters ago.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone from CSI (sadly).

_Italic font represents the thoughts of a character.  
_

* * *

Dr. Thomas Arnold was an older man, perhaps in his late 50's. From the bushy forest atop his head, to his groomed mustache, his hair was completely white. To his students at UNLV, he was known as a joker, one of those teachers who made made each class extremely enjoyable, yet still educated their students more than any other teacher in the department. Tonight, however, he was in a serious mood as he pulled up to the Las Vegas Crime Lab. He had been woken by the buzz of his cellphone at 1:00am, and told by the night secretary that he was urgently needed at the crime lab. A CSI had been kidnaped, and the clock was ticking.

As he entered the lab and was led upstairs, Dr. Arnold let out a deep breath. He was prepared to do whatever he could. However, at the moment he wasn't exactly sure how he was going help. The secretary from the front desk showed the Doctor into a small, dimly lit room where he noticed two men standing around a lab counter: Arnold immediately recognized the older man as Dr. Gilbert Grissom, though he had never seen the other man before. He knew Grissom by reputation, and in the past had read articles by him in a variety of scientific magazines. Grissom looked up from the papers he was reading, and quickly crossed the room to Dr. Arnold, extending his hand.

"Dr. Arnold," he said as the two men shook hands, "Thanks so much for coming by."

"Not a problem," Arnold responded, "I just hope I can help."

"I'm hoping the same thing," responded Grissom, as he turned to walk back to his paperwork, "I'd like to show you some rocks."

"Of course," replied the Doctor.

"I was hoping that you could possibly identify the location that these rocks came from," Grissom stated, more than asked, as he motioned to a tiny pile of stones no bigger then pebbles. The small pieces formed a pile on a circular while piece of filter paper.

"Hmm," began Dr. Arnold, squinting at the tiny heap, "Well I can try. But you should know that I'm only an expert in rocks and sediments from around here, and out West in general. If these rocks are from a state in the east or somewhere else, I may not be able to help."

"We're hoping there from somewhere nearby, actually," Grissom began, pausing a moment before he thoughtfully continued, "How much have you heard about the 'miniature killer'... I believe that's what the media has been calling her?"

"Oh, yeah. I've been reading about those cases. The killer creates exact miniature replicas of the crime scenes. Scary stuff."

"Well, here's the latest model," Grissom walked over to an adjacent counter, beckoning the Doctor to follow suit. Standing next to Grissom, the Doctor looked down at the miniature wreckage, immediately noticing the tiny hand, slowly moving up and down. He pursed his lips together, a wave of horror mixed with anger washing over him.

"We think she's somewhere near Vegas," Grissom spoke softly, "The killer wouldn't have had much time between when she captured Sara, and when we arrested her. I just need a general area, and then we'll send out a search."

"Well," began Tom, "Simply by looking at the ground cover, I can tell you she's in the Mojave Desert somewhere. The rocks have formed a conglomerate, and surprisingly it is still easy to see on such a small scale. I must say... I'm sickly impressed. The killer created the desert exactly how is is: bedrock covered by an eroding layer of conglomerate. Have you run any tests on the rocks?"

"Yes," the two men turned around to see Hodges holding a few sheets of paper in his hands, "I've run some chemical tests... what I have here is the composition of the rocks."

Hodges handed the papers over to Dr. Arnold, who proceeded to read over the results.

"Just as I suspected... your rocks are high in salt and clay levels. These rocks are also coated with Na2Co3 and NaHCo3, and contain traces of volcanic sediments. You're CSI is in one of the 'playas', also known as dry lakes, in the Mojave. Based of the amounts of volcanic substance in the rocks, and taking into consideration the amount of time the kidnapper had to hide your CSI, I would bet the real life version of your miniature can be found in Soda Lake."

"Wonderful," Grissom said, putting a hand on the Doctors shoulder as he pulled out his cell phone to call Brass.

"Dr. Grissom," Arnold interrupted, his tone somber in nature, "Two important things you need to take into account: the first is that Soda Lake is the largest dry lake in the Mojave Desert. Second, while the playas are usually dry throughout the year, the groundwater level is very near the surface, and when it rains the lakes flood. There is currently a huge storm over Soda Lake, which means it will be flooding. Depending on where your CSI is--"

"Brass... She's at Soda Lake. Send everyone now," Gil snapped his phone shut and turned to look at Tom, "We won't give up until we find her."

"That's they way it should be," said Dr. Arnold, "I just wanted to warn you... about the flooding. If she's trapped under a car--"

"Thank you, Doctor," began Grissom in a formal tone, "You have been an immense help. I'm afraid I have to run now... can you find your way out?"

"Yes--" began Arnold.

"Good," Grissom interrupted. And with that, he turned and quickly left the room.

* * *

The rain was forming large puddles now, and Sara was beginning to worry even more. It wasn't bad enough that she was being crushed under a car; now she also had to deal with the fact that if the water kept building up like it was, she may not even live to see tomorrow's sun.

_I always thought drowning would be the worst way to go._ She couldn't help the thoughts that kept popping into her head: the words just kept coming. _I've always hoped that my death would be quick and painless, and I must say, this situation is neither quick nor painless._

It was like there was another person inside her who wouldn't shut up. At first it was annoying, but now the constant conversation in her mind was starting to get to her. The inner voice kept talking and talking and just wouldn't stop.

_How do you think Grissom will handle this, Sara? It's not very nice of you to leave him now... actually, it's rather unforgivable. The two of you have gotten so close over the past year. This will destroy him--_

"Shhhh!" Sara heard herself say. The voice needed to stop talking. Sara wasn't sure how much longer she could take it.

_You're loosing it, Sara, _the voice began again, _I bet you're worried that your turning into your mother. "Crazy people make me feel crazy." Didn't you say that to Grissom once? And, your mother was most certainly crazy. Do you remember that day? The day she murdered your father? Sure he had beaten her, and you for that matter... but still. Do you remember how you felt? That coldness... so cold it made you feel hollow inside. Do you remember that feeling?_

Try as she may, Sara couldn't make the voice stop. It kept on and on, never ceasing, and driving her further and further from reality.

_Your mother went to the "special hospital" afterward, didn't she? She was crazy... apparently tragic events do that to people in your family... turn them crazy, that is. Tell me, Sara: do you think that if you make it out of this situation alive, you will still be sane? Will Grissom still love you? Or, will you be a broken woman, tossed aside by society... an outcast, doomed to be locked up and hidden from the world for the rest of your life--_

"Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!" Sara screamed with all her remaining energy, though her words merely mixed with the howling wind that continued to whip through the stormy night.

"Grissom," she pleaded, as tears trickled down her cheeks, "Please, please find me... **I need you**."

* * *

He walked at a brisk pace through the halls, barely aware of anything around him. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind, but none of them stuck. He was thinking of everything, yet nothing in particular. As he stepped outside into the cool night air, Brass' voice drew him out of his daze.

"Hey Gil... hop in," Brass pointed to the black Denali, engine already running. Grissom slipped into the passenger side seat as Brass maneuvered around the vehicle to get into the drivers seat. Neither of them said a word until they were on the road.

"I want to give you a brief update, but I don't want you to get too... overexcited," Brass began quietly, trying to choose his words carefully, "Due to the winds and the storm--mainly the winds--over Soda Lake, we can't get a helicopter into the air. We've also had a few wrinkles to work out on the ground with sending in the search teams, but everything is flowing more smoothly now."

"What _wrinkles_?" Grissom questioned, agitation filling his voice. Jim didn't respond, and a few seconds past before anything else was spoken in the car.

"Just tell me, Jim," Grissom ordered in an almost defeated tone.

"The lake is flooding. They weren't sure of the best way for crews to safely and effectively search the area. It's too shallow for boats, but they were worried about sending motor vehicles out because the water is getting too deep for them..."

"Damn it," Grissom whispered under his breath, slamming his fist against the armrest of his chair, "So what are they doing?"

"Well, they finally got a bunch of ATV's from the park service, and sent people out from all sides of the lake."

"Is that the best we can do?! The lake is 60 miles wide at points... how the hell are we supposed to find her in time?!"

Grissom was desperate. He had never lost this much control over his feelings and emotions, but he was too far gone now to care. All he could think of was Sara. Poor Sara, who was somewhere in the middle of this damn lake frightened to death... if she wasn't already dead. Squinting his eyes shut, Grissom moved a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as he took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Jim," he spoke after a few minutes, "I just... it's just--"

"I know," said Brass, glancing over at his long time friend. He was just about to speak again, when the buzz of the two-way radio interrupted him.

"Attention all units, attention all units," a man's voice cracked over the airwaves, "We have found the car. I repeat: we have found the car. We are approaching it now, and it appears that there is a body underneath. Send the medics to the North West--"

"Thank God," Grissom breathed, tuning out the rest of the message as he laid his head back against his headrest.

"We're not home free, Gil... we still don't know her condition," Brass bluntly stated, interrupting Grissom's moment of numbness.

"Just give me my moment of peace, damn it!" Grissom snapped.

"Gil, you and I both know you won't have a moment of piece until she's back home and under your care."

Grissom didn't say anything in response, but deep down he acknowledged the truth Jim's words.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! Any suggestions or comments you might have would be greatly appreciated : ) 


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